Mediator at the Moulin Rouge
by writerluv
Summary: For their honeymoon, Jesse and Suze go to Paris, France, in hopes of for a normal time together. But once they arrive, Suze is plagued by dreams of a place of love, lust and loss: the Moulin Rouge. Rated T for possible mature scences and obsinity later on
1. Chapter 1

Mediator at the Moulin Rouge

Summary: For their honeymoon, Jesse and Suze go to Paris, France, in hopes of for a normal time together. But once they arrive, Suze is plagued by dreams of a place of love, lust and loss: the Moulin Rouge.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Prologue:

_The blaring music mixed with screams and cat-calls of the sexually deprived men painfully filled my ears. Lights born from electricity sparkled down on the servants of the night, the slaves to lust. A _

_million and one eyes—so many men were here tonight!—yearn-fully gazed on the scantily dressed whores—who am I to judge?—to me, the "Sparkling Diamond." High up on my perch, ready to sing _

_my song, I scanned over the crowd; they were all the same. The same scums who come and take advantage of the weak. Though, they are the same scums who keep food on my table._

_Sweat leaked into my eyes and burned them. My silver costume constricted me. Fatigue slowly took over my dwindling energy. Damn cold! Of all night, why did you have to come?_

_I never wanted this life, life in the underworld. My heart truly lies with being an actress, not a courtesan All I wanted was to act on stage, to fulfill my life-long dream! To end this wretched past! To _

_gain respect! To leave the Moulin Rouge for good! And tonight would be last night of selling my body and the beginning of a new life. A new life as an actress._

_Harold and I came into the middle of the large, human- circle; he pointed out the man who would save me from this life by sponsoring _Spectacular! Spectacular!_, the Duke. The Duke was better _

_looking than I had been led to believe: he had a handsome face with dark hair covering his visage; his big, brown eyes drew sympathy from me for some unknown plight; and, most importantly, his _

_suite looked to be well tailored. Very, very rich indeed._

_But I did not know that my mistake in identity would lead me on the wildest ride of my life. On to the path way of love. To Christian. Then, ultimately, my death._

"Satine, Satine," a soft whisper replaced the awful clamor. I never heard this masculine, soothing, musical voice before, but it was familiar. All too familiar.

The problem was my name isn't Satine.


	2. Chapter 2

After two years of finally living the life he deserved, Jesse still can't get over the modern marvels of the twenty-first century. Namely, airplanes. On the way to the Carmel-By-The-Sea

International Airport at four-thirty in the morning, my now dear husband couldn't help but blather on/ try to explain to me about the mechanics of aerodynamics and gravity and stuff. In a

word, boring. Though, unfortunately, the night before Jesse and I left for Paris, Andy and Mom invited us to a congratulatory dinner ("Oh, Susie, I can't believe you already got married to

such a wonderful man! And to think you never had a boyfriend before!), where Doc and Jesse spent most of the time talking about wind velocity increasing under the wings when landing. It

was sad to believe that Jesse wanted to learn more about planes than kissing me, his wife.

At least I could take solace in the fact that Jesse was a tad bit quieter on the ride over. Well, mainly because I introduced him to the wonderful world of Dramamine. Oh yes, the sleeping pill

that puts even the most adrenaline-high people to sleep. As much as I love seeing Jesse's chocolate-y eyes twinkle when he learns something new or elucidates to me about whatever he

learned, but I found that I love it even more when he sleeps peacefully. For about a year, my husband watched me sleep after kicking some ghostly ass, but now, finally, I get to see his

chest rising and falling to a smooth, rhythmic tempo, to see him giving a faint smile for a happy dream. These moments made my hard-core, New Yorker heart melt.

Now, now though, I could relax; I could forget, for a moment, about my life, my destiny, my curse of conversing with the dead. Instead, I could concentrate on my future with Jesse, who

planned on going to Stanford University for medical school and my career as a kickboxing instructor at the Y. Nothing could perturb the tranquility that I succumbed to.

Memories of the wedding flashed before my eyes; the day seemed ruined when the rain poured all over the outdoor ceremony (and my fantasies), but Father D.—being the overly optimistic

priest he is—had all the confidence in the world that God was granting us a wedding present to remember.

"Yeah, right, Father D. The Good Lord is granting us with water to grow the plants." Not my wittiest come back. Frankly, I wanted the sunshine-and-clear-happy-go-lucky wedding. Down

pour wasn't part of the plan.

Father D., smiling a hauntingly beautiful grin, only responded with riddles: "He works in mysterious ways."

About ten minutes later, the rain stopped as the clouds parted to reveal the peaking sun; some part of today could be salvaged. The guests took some napkins from the reception and dried

the soaked seats. Andy led me, the normally calm Susannah Simon, to the end of the isle. Tears, representing the many emotions ready to burst out, streamed down my cheeks. I didn't

allow the guests to see my face.

"Suze, everything will be alright. It's scary to pledge yourself forever to one person—I should know, I married twice" Andy lightly chuckled to make the situation better, "—but once you get

to the end of the isle, you will know if you truly love him or not." I watched my bridesmaids (Gina and CeeCee) slowly walking to the tune. Apprehension took over my body. What if, as soon

as I arrive to the end, Jesse realizes that he could have any woman in the world and leave me for the florist?

Not once did Jesse ever suggest he would leave me as Father D. asked us to say our vows.

The grand finale came when the good father allowed Jesse to kiss the bride. Oh boy, was that a passionate kiss. It felt like all the times Jesse held back were just to tease me. Then all my

fears disappeared.

People in the background began to say, "Aw;" it wasn't 'till later I found out that a rainbow appeared behind us, when Jesse and I kissed.

"Susannah, wake up. We're landing in five minutes," Jesse yawned. Everyone felt the decent of the plane. The buildings and roads came into view, all looking like miniatures; soon enough,

everything grew to its rightful proportion.

"So, what should we do first? Go see the Eifel Tower? The Pompidou?" I asked, after we picked up our luggage and flagged down a taxi in front Charles du Gaul International Airport. My

raven-haired Adonis refused to let me plan any part of the honeymoon; as romantic as it was, I was kind of scared of what Jesse had planned. Tourist-y things, I assumed.

"Well, I hoped tonight we could do something special tonight," Jesse suggested. For some reason, my imagination veered to a dark hotel room with Jesse naked, sprawled on the bed, and

me, wearing the Victoria's Secret night "gown" which Kelly gave as a present to me at my bachelorette party, coming out of the bathroom. If that was special, I was all up for it. "Tonight will

be the opening of Moulin Rouge as a theater in a century; they will be showing they story that led to the original downfall." Jesse looked longingly into my eyes. He was all into this culture

stuff, while I, on the other hand, was in it to say I did it, like going to McDonald's in Europe.

"Yea, sure, Jesse, but can we check into the hotel first? I'm beat." I took out my cell phone to check the time: **12: 45**. Of course, I would arrive during the daytime, when, technically

speaking, should be sleeping.

"_Sí, querida,_ anyways, I need to catch up on my reading," Jesse said. Now, I could focus again on the happiest day of my life.


	3. Chapter 3

When Jesse and I left the wedding all together—reception and all--, I glanced back at my old life,

one last time. The ancient edifice of Junipero Serra High School—yes, I did have a Catholic wedding for

Jesse and Father D.'s sakes-- became a distinct part of my past, as we, the newlywed couple, headed for

the limo. The California sun beat down on us, and the humidity was just perfect. Inhaling, I smelled the

salty air. The rainbow could still be seen over the school.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blonde-headed figure, leaning against the building, lifting a

brown, glass bottle. The man was a little unkempt with the bed-head and he wore jeans and a t-shirt,

but the gesture was the best present anyone could give us. I just hoped Paul finds the happiness Jesse

and I share.

_"Satine, Satine," _someone beckoned me to leave. But leave to where. The pleasant dream

shattered to a million pieces, then a feeling of fear—something I haven't felt in two years—took over

every fiber of my being. I have to get out! I have to get out of here!

"Susannah…wake up! Wake up!" Jesse screamed and shook me.

"My name isn't Satine!" I yelled right back at him. Beads of sweat rolled profusely down my

face; my breathing was deep and heavy; my hands shook uncontrollably. Jesse loosened his grip on my

shoulders, but still kept a firm grip on me.

"_Quierda_, I know your name isn't Satine. _Nombre Dios_, where did you hear that name?" His eyes

burned intensely on my face—to my soul. His olive hands soon moved onto my own, as his lips kissed

my icky forehead. His eyes held the same fear I felt only moments ago.

"I-I don't know," I whispered into his shoulder. Taking a big whiff of the tasteful cologne Jake

gave Jesse during his bachelor party, my nerves became less frazzled.

"_Te duchas y te pone unas ropas nuevas_," Jesse commanded me, while showing off his super

fast Spanish tongue.

"Jesse, I don't speak Spanish!" I laughed at the revelation. Learning Spanish should be on the top

of my "Top Ten List." A beautiful smile cracked on his perfectly sculpted face.

"_Yo sé_, but I seeing your cute, confused face," Jesse merely stated. If I had to say, Jesse's favorite

hobby is to mercilessly tease me. "In all seriousness, go take a shower, calm yourself. You'll feel better,

trust me." He gave me a peck on my cheek.

The shower worked marvelously on my sore body; the warm water relaxed my tense muscles.

Not to mention the complementary hotel shampoo smelt better than my already-perfectly-smelling

shampoo. Definitely worth scavenging.

Stepping out of the tub with the towel wrapping to the contours of my body, I wiped the foggy

mirror to let some reflection come forth. I scrutinized certain problem areas of my face to determine

which cover-up I should use. After that, I picked up the lacy, black bra—courtesy of CeeCee—and

underwear set. This would only be useful if Jesse and I were to engage in intimate activities tonight, but,

with Jesse being born in the nineteenth century, something as intimate as sex might not come so soon. I

put on a black halter top and skin-tight jeans. Just because I was married to my soul mate, doesn't mean

I was planning on changing my style anytime soon. I stepped out of the bathroom to the main room.

Jesse, channel surfing, sat on the bed, looking bored. But when I stepped into his peripheral

vision, his jaw dropped to the floor. Let's just say, the time of intimacy might come closer than expected.

"Ok, Jesse, let's see what the hubbub is all about." Oh, tonight will be more than interesting.


End file.
